to be pronounced: ‘Cooper’

I am becoming increasingly fond of William Cowper, the poet, depressive and occasionally-insane writer of God Moves In A Mysterious Way.  The more I discover, the more my heart goes out to him, and the more his words get inside me.  I'm trying to find a good tune to make O For A Closer Walk With God singable.

Tonight I ended up reading a poem about him (or rather, his grave) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and I thought I'd share a bit:


And now, what time ye all may read through dimming tears his story,
How discord on the music fell and darkness on the glory,

And how when, one by one, sweet sounds and wandering lights departed,
He wore no less a loving face because so broken-hearted.


With quiet sadness and no gloom, I learn to think upon him,

With meekness that is gratefulness to God whose Heaven hath won him,


Who suffered once the madness-cloud to His own love to blind him,


But gently led the blind along where breath and bird could find him.
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